


Snow Spell

by aminiatureworld



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: I love snow can you tell?, I've returned!, M/M, More soft feelings, merry christmas y'all, winter fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:53:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28334937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aminiatureworld/pseuds/aminiatureworld
Summary: When the Witcher and the bard spend a day together in the middle of a snowstorm, certain emotions seem to come to the forefront.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	Snow Spell

**Author's Note:**

> It's been forever I'm so sorry! I was just so busy with the end of the semester, and the continual mental health struggle. As of such this fic is pretty unedited and very short, but I wanted something sorta Christmas themed to post today. Success? I hope so
> 
> My thanks to previous readers in endnote, sorry for the wait but I hope you enjoy!

There was something about snow.

“Geralt!” Jaskier’s squeals brought the Witcher out of the cavern of his mind, shoving his consciousness into a world of white. It had evidently snowed during Jaskier’s part of the night watch, and snowed hard. The terrain was barely recognizable, and Geralt was suddenly aware of a piercing cold pervading the scene, a cold only slightly mediated by the pitiful fire Jaskier had somehow managed to light. Not that the bard seemed to care a bit about freezing to death or losing one’s way. No, instead Jaskier seemed to be flourishing in this new environment; eyes bright he ran around in various circles, kicking up new snow, muttering about the heaviness of it, and taking odd delight in marring the pristine landscape with both his footprints and his cries of delight.

“Geralt!” Jaskier repeated himself, and Geralt gave a small grunt, still dragging himself out of his previous state of consciousness. “Isn’t it beautiful? I didn’t know it was supposed to snow! I haven’t seen snow in ages Geralt, in ages! Not a proper snow anyways, and everyone needs a proper snow once in a while. Ahhh, the songs I could write right now! How about the maiden with the heart of ice? Ooh or maybe a snow spirit falling in tragic love with a spirit of spring? Or maybe how pretty snowflakes would look in a certain person’s eyelashes right now.”

“No eyelashes.” Geralt groaned. Somehow Jaskier had managed to regress, to become a level of cheesy that Geralt wasn’t sure he’d ever seen before. Not that he really minded it. It was nice to see people become so enamored over something so simple, and though Geralt might describe this aspect of Jaskier as childish, it somehow fit the bard, adding to his puckish personality instead of detracting from it. Not to mention how lovely Jaskier looked in the snow, the flakes in his own lashes and hair seemingly making the contrast between the auburn mop and the cornflower eyes even starker. Pairing that with the light blue faux fur coat and cap Jaskier was wearing, the cap having slid off onto the ground, indeed maybe Jaskier was the spirit of the snow, not whatever he was making up in his mind.

“Yourself.”

“Huh?” Jaskier stopped spinning in circles and approached Geralt, whose face was somehow starting to feel warm. “What did you say Geralt I did catch that.” There was no mocking in Jaskier’s tone, and for a moment Geralt considered lying, taking back the words that had flown out uninhibited. But after a second of thought, he decided against it. It was too beautiful a day to have Jaskier crestfallen, to see the way the bard slouched forward, losing tens of centimeters in height somehow; Jaskier might not have heard him, but damn if the bard didn’t know when Geralt was lying.

“You should write a song about yourself. Here. Surrounded by snow. It suits you.”

“Geralt…” Jaskier’s smile was broad and so full of happiness it threw Geralt for a loop. Normally something like that would result in a smirk. Were they sure there wasn’t some sort of spell placed on this snow anyway? “Well, as much as I’d like that I can’t take my baby out right now, the cold would kill her and I don’t have replacement strings anyway. Of course, if you want, I’d be willing to serenade you by myself, solo vocce so to speak.” The smirk had appeared, and Geralt shook his head, before giving a smirk himself. Ah, fuck it. There was something about snow anyway. It blanketed the ditches, the ruts in the road, and the stumbling blocks. It smoothed away wrinkles and dispersed shadows. And it’d be nice if for one day, while they were stuck hunkering down for fear of getting lost if Geralt could have that with Jaskier too. An uncomplicated relationship, fraught with the thoughts of survival, the fears of persecution, the wonders of rejection, and if only, only, only.

“Alright.” Caution had somehow been thrown to the wind, and if there was any seed of worry in Geralt, any speck of regret, it quickly faded away with Jaskier’s smile, his voice echoing in the great silence of the snow, singing both songs of old and whatever came into his mind.

Slowly the day began to fade and night approached. The temperature was rising, and Geralt was pretty certain that the next day would be back on the road. A pity, he’d like the day, singing, throwing snow at each other, talking, somehow uninhibited. It was an experience not likely to happen again, the chance to simply bask in the company of one another for a day, not worrying about anything else, not caring about time lost. Truly something not to be replicated. The duo was sitting around the fire now, sitting shoulder to shoulder, close because of the cold and, well, maybe something else. Geralt liked Jaskier’s presence, it was nice to have someone lean on you, have someone trust you so much, be so comfortable with you.

“I don’t want this day to ever end.” Jaskier was speaking sleepily, voice vaguely flat and husky, a sign that he was pushing the limit and would soon be passed out, not to be woken up for the next seven hours. Geralt hummed a reply. Really he didn’t want it to end either. Leaning more towards Jaskier, Geralt allowed his head to rest on the bard’s, who’d claimed Geralt’s shoulder at some point. Jaskier sighed, seemingly content. “I really could stay here forever.”

“So could I.” Geralt admitted. Jaskier’s head gave a nudge, and the two separated, looking each other straight in the face. The firelight was flickering, giving Jaskier a slightly otherworldly feeling. The bard’s eyes were intent, piercing despite the evident fatigue, and Geralt felt as if his soul was somehow being examined.

“Really?” Now the two were inching closer. Geralt swallowed and nodded.

“Yes.” For a moment there was nothing but the complete silence that comes with a snowstorm, before Jaskier moved, hand going to link with Geralt’s eyes intent.

“May I?”

“Yes.” And carefully Jaskier nudged closer still, placing his mouth on Geralt’s.

There really was something about snow. Overnight the atmosphere seemed to have dissipated and what was left with Geralt were exhilaration, tenderness, and no little amount of fears. There was nothing to refract the shadows now, and as Geralt readied Roach to continue on, he wondered if the spell of yesterday was forever broken.

“Morning.” Jaskier chirped, incredibly peppy considering the time of day.

“Morning.” Geralt replied, pitch, and volume much lower.

“And how’re we today?” Asked Jaskier, saddling up to the Witcher and throwing his arm awkwardly around Geralt’s shoulder. Geralt felt a blush once more covering his face.

“Alright.” He raised his hand to link with Jaskier’s.

“Good.” Jaskier sighed, before skipping away, fast as he’d arrived. “I’m dousing the fire, you ready to go?”

“Yes.” Geralt smiled, maybe yesterday was some odd dream, something never to be repeated. But spells have a way of sticking with people, and even when there’s not a flake on the ground, people can still remember the magic of an unexpected snowstorm.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for waiting! Special thanks to the 481 people who read my last fic, especially the 52 who gave it kudos, the four who bookmarked it, and the two who commented. You guys keep me going and I won't be disappearing on you any time soon!


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